


too lonely to pretend

by quietregulus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hogwarts, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietregulus/pseuds/quietregulus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus had never considered himself to be a jealous person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too lonely to pretend

**Author's Note:**

> This is such garbage I'm sorry.
> 
> "Harry Potter" isn't mine! 
> 
> Title from "In Your World" by Muse.

Remus had never considered himself to be a jealous person.

He wouldn’t get all wound up if he wasn’t the first choice, or if he saw others being happier and closer with each other than he ever felt in his own friendships - when he felt he could never achieve that same level of intimacy with another person. He’d always felt secure in his relationships with Sirius, James, Peter, and later, Lily.

All this changed, of course. By sixth year, he would most certainly be able to call himself a jealous person. And he hated it.

Remus hated feeling bitter and pathetic and _jealous_. It was such an ugly word. Such an ugly feeling. But seeing Sirius and James together brought these ugly thoughts in his head, unwelcome and unavoidable.

He wasn’t thick. He knew Sirius and James had a special relationship, something that passed the boundaries of a regular friendship. Yes, James had been pining after Lily for the past few years, but Remus was almost certain James had some sort of reserve specifically for Sirius. Like no matter what, the bond between James and Sirius couldn’t be touched. And Remus feared Sirius had the same for James.

He didn’t used to mind - it wasn’t his business - but now, whenever he saw them, he burned.

They were so close. Their level of comfort with each other made Remus’ skin itch. He didn’t have that. He couldn’t reach that level of closeness with another person, and most importantly, he couldn’t reach that level of closeness with Sirius.

He wondered what was wrong with him, and what James had that he didn’t (countless things, really). And then he’d get mad at himself for thinking so badly of James. He didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t his fault Remus was destined to be alone.

When did he get so melodramatic?

Remus frowned down at his parchment. He’d written “melodramatic” in his notes without thinking, he was so wrapped up in himself. Scowling lowly, he scratched it out and returned his attention to McGonagall. It was torn away once more when Lily, who sat next to him, spoke softly.

“You alright?”

“Yes,” he said, voice harsher than he meant it to be.

He looked up into Lily’s narrowed eyes.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled. “I’m – distracted.”

“That much is clear,” Lily said, still looking rather reproachful. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Remus sighed. “Not here.”

Lily frowned at him, but her green eyes were softer. Remus’ gaze flickered over to the table where James and Sirius sat (Peter hadn’t made it into Advanced Transfiguration, no matter how genius James and Sirius were). Lily seemed to understand.

“Later, then.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

“It’s ridiculous.”

“Tell me anyway.”

They were sitting in the grass at the edge of the lake. Remus was sat cross-legged, a book in his hands, there simply for the purpose of having something to do with them. Lily laid on her stomach nearby, her chin in her hands. Her eyes were glued on him.

“Remus,” she said sternly when he didn’t reply. “I’ve hardly ever seen you this agitated.”

That made sense. He _was_ agitated. He didn’t know if he’d ever felt this agitated besides that time they Do Not Talk About.

Knowing this made him feel worse. None of this would have bothered him before, but it bothered him now - it bothered this new jealous Remus. He didn’t particularly like this new self.

“I’m jealous,” he said finally.

Remus opened the book in his hands. He let the pages fall from one cover to the other, watching the pages instead of Lily.

“Of what?”

“It’s ridiculous,” he repeated. Remus sighed. Shut his eyes. “Of James and Sirius.”

He opened his eyes when Lily didn’t respond right away. She had sat up and was looking at him, a puzzled expression on her pretty face.

“Potter and Black? But they’re not,” Lily asked, stopping so she didn’t have to say exactly what they weren’t. “Are they?”

“No,” Remus said. “No, they’re not.”

“Ok,” Lily said. She looked slightly relieved, but he knew she’d deny it. “So what’s the problem?”

“I just feel like they’re untouchable,” Remus said. “Like they’ve got each other and that’s all they need. No one else could matter as much to them as each other.”

“Remus,” Lily said softly. Her hand found Remus’ and squeezed. “They love you. You know that.”

“They love each other more,” Remus said, hating the bitter tone his voice was taking.

“You don’t know that.”

His frustration flickered like a flame.

“You’ve been seeing how they act around each other for six years, Lily! They’re inseparable. Nothing could come between them. Even if Sirius did return my feelings, I’m nothing compared to James.”

Lily didn’t speak for a while.

“Have you even told Black?”

Her voice wasn’t stern; it was soft, sad. Remus would have preferred stern. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want anyone’s pity – he didn’t deserve it.

“No,” Remus bit out. “And I’m not planning to.”

At Lily’s surprised look, he elaborated.

“I don’t want to put him in that position. I won’t.”

“Remus. Put yourself first. Just this once.”

Remus shook his head, but Lily continued.

“Tell him.” Her voice _was_ stern now, and her green eyes were intense. “Even if he doesn’t return your feelings, it’ll be a weight off your chest.”

“He’ll hate me,” Remus said, once again unable to keep the bitterness outside his voice. “He’ll be disgusted at how I’ve been harboring all these feelings for him for so long. It’s – it’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t say that,” Lily said sharply. “He could never be disgusted with you. I’m no fan of Black – you know this – but I’m certain he’d never think badly of you.”

Remus didn’t say anything. Lily Evans was usually right, but he believed that just this once, she was dreadfully wrong.

* * *

 

Sirius was drunk. So were James and Peter, and most of the other Gryffindors who were also sixteen or older.

And, alright, maybe Remus was a little tipsy. Not proper drunk, though. He’d leave that to the rest of them.

He was playing a game of chess with Frank Longbottom, who was also Much Less Drunk than the rest. They were at about the same level of skill at chess; neither good nor bad. Right now, Frank was winning.

Remus was contemplating his next move when Sirius came up, smelling like dirt and alcohol. He sat on the armrest of the armchair Remus was occupying, and Remus tried not to tense. It was torture, having Sirius be _this_ close to him and not being able to do anything about it.

Sirius spoke, his breath hot against Remus’ ear.

“What’re you doing?”

Remus edged away.

“What’s it look like, Sirius?” Remus asked as he moved a knight, though it was more an excuse for something to do rather than working a strategy. He had a feeling Frank was going to win this round.

“Chess, but that can’t be right,” Sirius said, his speech slurring. “We’re meant to be celebrating. Crushed ‘em – that’s what we did.”

“We sure did,” Remus agreed, frustration rising within him already.

Frank raised an eyebrow at him. Remus shook his head.

“Go on,” Remus said.

“Wha-?” Sirius asked.

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

He gritted his teeth and turned to face Sirius. He looked extremely handsome, of course, cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol (it must be the East Asian in him) and a loose smile on his face. Something deep in Remus ached, and he wished Sirius was his.

“Where’s James? Aren’t you meant to be bothering him?”

“Are you – are you insini-insinooating that I’m bothering you?”

“I don’t have to insinuate it. You _are_ bothering me,” Remus said.

“Remus!” exclaimed Sirius, aghast. He slid from the armrest into the chair with Remus, and Remus’ skin burned where he touched him. “That hurts.”

Remus couldn’t take it - the teasing, the touching, all of it. No matter how much Sirius acted like this, Remus would always be firmly in the “good friends” camp. The touches and teases and compliments and everything else didn’t mean much at all, and it was useless to pretend otherwise. It made him mad at himself, but also mad at Sirius (which he hated).

“Sorry, Frank. You win, good game,” Remus said as kindly as he could while he stood, and walked away before Frank could respond.

Remus didn’t know where he could go; it was obviously too early to turn in for the night, and Lily was nowhere to be found. He spent too long debating on it, though, and soon Sirius was back at his side.

“Moony,” whined Sirius. “Why’d you leave?”

Remus looked up at the ceiling, praying to Wizard God or whatever to give him patience.

“You’re drunk, Sirius,” Remus said finally, looking back at Sirius, who was wavering a bit. “Where are James and Peter?”

“Dunno,” Sirius shrugged. “That’s why I found you.”

Remus winced. Of course. Second choice.

“Right, well, I’m sure there’s some way you could find them again. Ask around. Someone ought to know.”

“Don’t wanna,” Sirius said, a goofy smile on his face now. “I’d rather stay with you.”

Something warm rose in Remus, but he pushed it down.

“You’re useless,” Remus muttered, rolling his eyes. He looked at Sirius, who smiled at him hopefully. “C’mon, we’ll go find them.”

“ _No_ , Moony, I don’t wanna,” Sirius said, taking his arm before Remus could walk away. “I wanna be with _you_.”

Hope, followed by anger. He needed more alcohol.

Remus voiced his thoughts. “Alcohol, Sirius. Where is it?”

Sirius’ eyes shone. “Will you have fun? Will you have fun with me, Remus?”

“Just – just show me.”

Sirius smiled brightly, and Remus’ chest ached. He was so beautiful, but he could never be his.

As if to torture him, Sirius flung an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “C’mon.”

* * *

“Remus.”

He was sat right by the window, grateful for the cool air blowing on his face. Remus’ eyes were closed, his stomach was warm, and he felt good. Content. Relaxed, for the first time in ages.

“Remus.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head to see Sirius staring at him expectantly from his bed.

“What?”

“Are you,” Sirius began to ask. He fiddled with one of his earrings. Remus tried to focus through the pleasant haze of alcohol – it was unlike Sirius to be nervous. “Are you mad at me?”

Remus’ spirits plummeted as much as they could with all the alcohol in his system.

“I – no, why would you think that?”

He avoided looking at Sirius as he answered, opting instead to look back out the window.

“You’ve been, I dunno, short with me,” Sirius explained in a soft but clear voice. Was he sobering up? “But it’s not full moon, not yet, and I don’t think you’ve been like – like this with James or Peter or Evans, I think it’s just me and I don’t know why, I’ve been trying to think. Like – what I’ve done wrong, and I don’t know if I’m missing something, or I’m just completely thick, but…Remus. Are you mad at me?”

“No,” said Remus, suddenly feeling immensely guilty.

It wasn’t fair of him. It wasn’t fair of him to take his frustration out on Sirius, who’d done nothing wrong. It was all him, all Remus. He’s the one with these horrible thoughts, the one who’s been unfair and rude and distant when Sirius has just been being Sirius.

He sighed and said again, “No.”

“Oh,” said Sirius. Remus glanced over at him; Sirius was now sitting cross-legged on his bed, his attentions on a loose thread of the covers. He couldn’t see his face; Sirius was hunched over, his hair falling in his face. “Well, I just – I don’t understand.”

“It’s me, I promise,” Remus said softly. He was grateful for the alcohol – it helped in loosening his tongue. He didn’t know if he would have the patience or nerve to quell Sirius’ fears if he was sober. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just-“

And then James and Peter burst in the room, clearly more drunk than Remus and Sirius were and laughing hysterically.

“Pads, Moony, you in here?” James’ loud voice came at them from the dark.

Remus had a second to prepare before the lights went on, dissipating the atmosphere that was previously in the room. He turned slightly from his seat by the window and saw that Sirius had stopped playing with the thread and was now sitting as he usually did – attentive but somehow still casual. He conveyed his interest while never betraying his cool exterior.

It struck Remus how different Sirius looked with just this change in posture. His eyes lingered on the other boy, taking in his profile, that strong gaze, the slight curl of his lips. Remus would never not be enamored by him.

He remembered himself and turned his attention to James and Peter, who had sat themselves down on James’ bed.

“So Peter and I got hungry, right, y’remember - and we were going down to the kitchens, right, and guess who we’d run into,” James said, his voice taking on that story-telling quality even while drunk.

“Snivellus,” Sirius said, a malicious glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes!” Peter said loudly, apparently unable to contain himself.

Already unwilling to hear it, Remus quietly excused himself to the bathroom as James and Peter continued to relive the tale to a rapt audience of one.

Once there, Remus reflected quietly on the events of the night. He hadn’t realized his recent aggression towards Sirius had been so transparent, but then, that was foolish. Sirius had always been perceptive – quietly so, but perceptive all the same.

The guilt hit him harder now that he was sobering up, and he had no idea how he could rectify his mistreating Sirius.

* * *

Apparently, it was by ignoring him.

Remus scowled at himself. He was a fool, a cowardly fool who avoided his problems rather than facing them.

“You’re scowling at yourself again,” Lily said beside him.

“You should probably get used to it,” Remus replied shortly.

He could feel Lily looking at him, and he stared determinedly at his notes.

“Black’s been looking at you all period,” said Lily, and when Remus tensed, she smiled smugly. “So that _is_ what it's about.”

Remus tried to relax and focus on his notes once more.

“Typical of me, right?” Remus said grudgingly.

“I think,” Lily said as loudly as she could without McGonagall swooping down on them, “If you just told Black how you felt all of this torture would be over.”

“It’s hardly torture.”

“I don’t care for your tone, _Lupin_ ,” Lily said.

Remus winced, not missing the use of his last name.

“What year are we in, _Evans_?”

“Third, by the way you and Black are skirting around each other,” Lily said, and Remus glared at her. She was unaffected, naturally. “Just stop sulking and talk to him. Good grief.”

“’Good grief,’” repeated Remus, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Stop that,” she said, but she was smiling too.

“If you two are quite done,” a severe voice said, and Remus shrank a bit, “I’d like you to demonstrate the spell we’ve just spent the class discussing.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Lily diligently, and picked up her wand.

She performed it perfectly, of course, and Remus suppressed a sigh.

McGonagall nodded. “It appears you two have been listening after all. Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Evans, though if I see you chattering away again, I’ll assume that this was just a stroke of luck.”

“It won’t happen again, Professor,” Lily said smoothly.

“No, Professor,” Remus added.

McGonagall nodded once more before walking away. Remus sagged in his seat.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Never mind her,” said Lily, her eyes straight ahead. “Just sort it out with Black.”

* * *

When Remus returned to the dorm room later that day, it was only natural that it was just Sirius in there.

“Where are the others?” he asked when Sirius looked up from his bed.

Sirius surveyed him with unreadable eyes for a moment before looking back down at his book.

“James has Quidditch practice and Peter’s got detention.”

“Right,” breathed Remus. He walked over to his own bed and dropped his bag down. His sweaty palms gripped the strap of his bag. “Sirius, I feel…I owe you an explanation.”

Sirius looked up again but met Remus’ eyes this time. The book lay open in his lap. Remus steeled himself, letting go of his bag and facing Sirius fully.

“You’re right – I have been distant and short with you, but it’s not because I’m mad at you,” Remus said. Sirius looked unconvinced, but Remus plowed on. “Really. I just – it’s me. I’ve been needing to sort something out on my own, but I’ve been inadvertently taking it out on you. You don’t deserve that, and I’m sorry.”

Sirius’ face was more open now – more vulnerable, less carefully-crafted. More Sirius, less Black.

“Why do you need to sort it out on your own? I mean, if I can help, I’d like to, Moony,” Sirius said, closing his book and inching closer on his bed. His voice was soft and earnest, and Remus ached. “What’s wrong?”

 _I’m in love with you,_ Remus wanted to say. _I’m in love with you but you’d never think of me like that, you’d never want me like that. I could never mean as much to you as James does. I could never be as close to you as James is._

“Don’t worry about it,” he said instead.

“Remus,” Sirius said, frowning. Remus turned away; he’d rather have the teasing than the concern. “You can’t just tell me to ignore whatever it is that’s bothering you. You’re my friend, Remus. You can tell me anything – we’ve gone over this before. I _want_ to help.”

“You can’t,” Remus said, and he saw a flicker of hurt cross Sirius’ face. He cursed inwardly; this was already going badly. “I mean – I appreciate it, Sirius, but I think…there’s nothing you can do.”

“I might surprise you, you know,” Sirius said, a hint of a smirk on his face. “I mean, there was that one time we learned about your furry little problem and came up with a half-decent solution.”

“Half-decent?” Remus said, almost laughing despite the twisting in his gut. “What you three have done for me…I can’t even begin to say…”

“You don’t have to. I just meant…why would you have to hide something from us - from me - anymore? Especially when it’s bothering you this much?”

He almost said that it was worse. But was it? Was this misplaced infatuation worse than him being a murderous creature? Merlin, he was fucked up.

But he couldn’t face the inevitable rejection. The disgust and discomfort that would surely be on Sirius’ face when Remus finally revealed the truth. Would Sirius later go to James and tell him everything, grimacing as he did so? Sometimes Remus felt as though they were the same person – confiding in one of them was the same thing as confiding in the both of them.

No. Sirius and James were too good-hearted for that. Even if it did disgust Sirius (as it surely would), he wouldn’t laugh about it later with James. He’d turn him down apologetically, uncomfortably, and things would never be the same between them again.

But Remus was already creating a rift between them – unintentionally, yes, but he had upset Sirius all the same. Maybe Lily was right. Maybe he should just get it over with – just gather the nerve and tell him, damn the consequences. He _was_ a Gryffindor, after all.

The most cowardly Gryffindor to ever set foot in the tower.

“Remus?”

Too much thinking, too much deliberation. He just had to do it.

Remus tried swallowing (had his throat ever been this dry?) and looked into Sirius’ grey eyes.

“I fancy you,” Remus said, mortified at how hot his face felt and how quiet the room was. Sirius’ eyes widened, but Remus kept going, trying not to stumble over his words. “I don’t expect you to do anything about it, of course, and I’m sorry about putting you in this position. I hope we can still be friends even if I’m…y’know…Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

It was finally too much for him and he turned to face his bed, his hand over his eyes. Remus’ heart was thudding loudly in his ears and he didn’t even realize Sirius was standing next to him until he put his hand on Remus’ shoulder.

Remus jumped and turned, his face surely bright red, to find Sirius much too close for comfort. Remus stumbled back onto his bed.

“Sirius, I-“ He tried to say because he had to say _something_.

“Why are you sorry?” Sirius interrupted, his voice calm and unaffected, and he sat down next to him so close that their thighs touched.

Remus stared down at their legs, feeling that all-too-familiar burning where Sirius touched him.

“I- I know you don’t feel that way towards me,” Remus managed to say, still avoiding eye contact. “I assumed it would make things weird and I don’t want it to be weird – I like our friendship and I didn’t want to muck it up, even if it’s not…even if we’re not as close as you and-and James.”

Nervously, Remus looked up at Sirius. There was a thoughtful expression on his handsome face, but he didn’t look disgusted, or even uncomfortable. Remus’ heartbeat slowed a bit and he discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, anxious for Sirius to speak.

“Do you really think we’re not as close as James and I?”

This question caught Remus off-guard. Wasn’t it obvious? He nodded uncertainly.

Sirius frowned.

“I think we are. Just…in a different way. We have our own relationship, and I have my own relationship with James.” Sirius paused, his eyes searching Remus. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, and I don’t think it’s a competition like, I dunno, who cares more about who more.”

“I never-“ Remus bit his lip, stopping himself. “I reckon it’s, I never felt like I shared that same level of closeness with you, and I wanted to – I _want_ to – but I thought I could never mean as much to you as James does.”

“Do you mean…” This time, Sirius stopped himself. He cocked his head as he looked at Remus. “James and I never had an actual relationship – not that way. I mean, we, yeah, did er, some things over the summer, but,” Sirius flushed a bit, “It was a complicated time. I was having a rough go of it, with running away and all, and James was understanding and…” Sirius grimaced, meeting Remus’ eyes. “Sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear this.”

Remus shook his head. It hurt but his curiosity won over.

“It’s fine, you can tell me.”

“Well,” Sirius sighed, “Anyway, I never fancied him that way, and James was sort of figuring himself out. It’s kind of – kind of fucked up if I think about it now, the way we both used each other but…at least it was mutual, I guess. Small comforts.”

Sirius ran his hand through his hair.

“The point is,” Sirius said, “I didn’t – I _don’t_ – feel that way about James but I do fancy you. And I was so worried when I thought you were mad at me – I thought I’d done something wrong like I always do, and I was petrified that you’d hate me again if you knew.”

A thousand emotions ran through Remus at once. The sick, heavy feeling that always came when he thought about that time they Do Not Talk About. Elation and disbelief when Sirius had said he felt the same way towards Remus (and mild annoyance at not having started with that). Sad surprise at the notion that Remus had hated Sirius – _could_ hate Sirius.

“I never hated you,” Remus said finally, his voice sounding croaky to his ears. He was staring down at their legs again. “I could never. But Merlin, you git, why didn’t you just start with you fancying me?”

A bark of laughter, and Sirius’ hands on Remus’ chin, turning his face up towards Sirius.

“Can I kiss you?” Sirius asked softly, grey eyes trained on Remus’ own, and Remus’ heart skipped a beat.

Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded.

Sirius’ soft lips touched Remus’, gentler than Remus could have ever imagined (Sirius used to be so fiery, something had changed in him this past summer) and Remus’ eyes fluttered closed. It was over before he knew it, and he opened his eyes to see Sirius looking at him expectantly.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, itching to kiss him some more. Months of agonizing, of hating, of being _jealous_ , all culminating in this overwhelming desire – _fuck_ , has Remus ever wanted anything this bad? It was like getting a taste just made him even more impatient. “Can I – can we - again?” And incoherent, apparently.

Sirius smiled now, his mouth curling upwards. “Yeah.”

This time Remus met him halfway, and unable to wait any longer, opened his mouth and got Sirius’ open as well. An undignified noise left him as he kissed Sirius hungrily, his hands hesitantly finding Sirius’ hair. He felt Sirius’ hands on him too, and his intoxicating smell and taste and feel was all Remus knew.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when they parted, lips swollen and hair mussed. Sirius regarded him in a way that made his face heat up.

“What?” Remus asked defensively.

“Nothing,” Sirius said, eyes glimmering. “It’s just – I love seeing you like this.”

His face was definitely flushed now.

“Christ, Sirius.”

“What?” Sirius grinned, taking one of Remus’ hands with his own. His thumb slowly ran across Remus’ hand before he moved to touch Remus’ face softly. His voice took on a softer, smoother quality when he spoke next. “Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you?”

Remus shivered.

“I hated it,” he admitted quietly. “It just felt like a reminder of what I couldn’t have.”

“Remus,” Sirius said, his hand moving to grip the hair at the back of Remus’ head. Remus’ breath hitched as his head was pulled back, exposing his neck. He felt Sirius’ breath hot on his skin. “You have me. You’ve had me for a long time. And now, I have you.”

“Prove it.”


End file.
